A Talent for Deception
by Sychronergy
Summary: Golden Prince Light Yagami lives in perfection. War prisoner L struggles to breathe in a life that only knows death. Everything is for sale. LxLight  Discontinued until further notice.


So yes, I do have an obsession with Faustian Pacts - Deal with the Devil thing. And princes; I cannot get over princes.

**A Talent for Deception **  
>by Sychron<p>

_Golden Prince Light Yagami lives in perfection. War prisoner Ryuuga struggles to breathe in a life that only knows death. Both are caught in a period of monstrous deals and Faustian pacts._

_Once upon a time_...

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><p><strong>Some humans are born with the ability to communicate with a <strong>_**Shinigami**_**.**

The dingy, tiny cell devours time, thought Ryuuga. But as far as he was concerned, he had no say in the matter. A conquered slave simply did not question any luxury they were spared. Nor would they question general lack of it.

"Monsters are not born," said Ryuuga. In response, the shadows in the empty cell morphed into a barely visible, grotesque figure with gangly limbs, a shadow twice as tall as any human. The ragged strips stringed from the unearthly material it donned fluttered twice as Ryuuga finished his statement. "Monsters are made."

"They dine the finest cuisine– washed down with the most expensive imported wine," replied a voice that resembled gravel grinding on bone. It didn't sound angry. It didn't sound amused. The statement was simply a fact.

"The amount of jewel in their forks alone could feed a family for a month," said Ryuuga. He lifted the rusted fork he was given, and stirred the half boiled vegetable in the meager meal meant to sustain his life. He felt a short burst of anger and pushed the whole bowl over. As he watch the cracked clay shatter, the expectation to be severely punished for breaking the clay bowl briefed his mind.

The Kiran Empire was known for its cruelty for anything it deemed criminal behavior. Sheer irony. While the royal and elite wasted enough to support a smaller country, the poor were punished for wasting trash. The noise brought a nearby guard into his room. One look told him what the prisoner did.

While Ryuuga waited for the man to spell an excessive sentence, he glanced at the ghostly figure that floated between them. Rem wouldn't attack, of course, but the Shinigami turned to face the direction of the intruder. If the guard was able to see Rem, any thoughts short of survival would make a quick exit. Ryuuga amused himself with the thought in the full minute of silence.

Finally, the guard spoke, "If you clean that up yourself, I'll pretend I didn't see it."

Ryuuga glanced up, careful to veil the surprise he felt. The rags he wore scratched against his neck. He felt the sensation keenly as he prepared to defend himself against a sudden blow. It didn't come.

"You only have three months to live," said the guard. He turned and slammed the iron door shut. "I'll be just as worried in your place."

"Wait!" said Ryuuga .

The man turned, and waited for Ryuuga to speak.

"Why do you keep us alive?"

"Kiran Festival," Ryuuga caught a flicker of something that resembled resentment flicker across the man's eyes. "The socialites like to watch their captives fight each other to death. Elite guards from their army, with armor and weapon, would join in for the slaughter too."

As if eager to explain another man's fate, the jailor continued, "In two day, when this water cycle ends, you'll be sent to a training regime. You'll be trained to scrabble around better for the royalties."

Ryuuga remembered that two weeks ago, when he had been captured, any slave that physically protested was dragged into prisons while the others were executed. They had been severely whipped, but a Keeper had inspected them for any lasing injuries. Some were even treated. The new information gave him a chill, but he simply gave the guard a blank stare.

"Thank you for your kindness, sir."

Darkness returned to the small cell. The handcuffs protested as he tried to place his hands by his side, and he grasped the foot long chain in response. He had fought bravely when the Kirans invaded his country. The display had earned him the right to live to be killed in a more _interesting _manner. Kiran Victory Festival. _Festival_ is a misleading term, he thought. _Slaughter_ was more fitting.

**Those humans can summon their **_**Shinigami**_** at any time to complete an exchange.**

"You close your eyes," said Rem. "Is it in defeat?"

"Rem," said Ryuuga. "I must fight. I must win. You claim to offer trades. I am unfamiliar with the process – please inform me what you would like in exchange."

"You want physical prowess," said the ancient being, "so, you must suffer a physical detriment. If it is alright with you, I will simply take away you ability to stand upright."

"I'm afraid you misunderstood something," said the young man, a touch of impatience gracing his black eyes. "Unable to stand upright, but able to fight?"

"Rhomboids" said the Shinigami, as her mind grasped the human terms.

"That sounds alright, I suppose," said Ryuuga, "and how will this work?"

"I cannot bless you with the power to fight," said Rem, "but I can grant you the ability to excel in the training regime; no matter what you learn there, you will be able to take it to the next levels. With your already prominent fighting prowess, I do not think we will have any problem."

Ryuuga gave a nod, but did not reply. The training regimes for slaves in Kiran would be a joke. But, to the Kirans, he was a joke; he wasn't meant to put on a show – he was to be killed for entertainment, entertainment for the schadenfreude Kiran royalties and noble.

"Why?" he suddenly asked.

Rem stared at him in silence.

"Why would you only want strength from one muscle, in exchange for something priceless like physical prowess?"

"Your human values are of no interest to me," said Rem, as she faded back in the dirty walls.

With nothing else to do, Ryuuga closed his eyes and pondered. The Shinigami were interesting, to say the least. Rem had said she wasn't the only one on Earth. They weren't interested in souls, opposed to what old medicine men claimed were the ultimate goal of every evil creature. Shinigami traded to profit, as humans always wanted what they traded away back, and when that happen the price would be doubled.

As sleep claimed him, he vowed to never double trade.

**A human may exchange anything they possess for something they desire.**

The next months were grim, gritty, and grueling, but true to Rem's words, Ryuuga found that he could grasp the concepts very well. His ability grew at a prodigious level, and he felt himself grow more powerful. He expected that even if he emerged victorious in the Kiran festival, there could only be death waiting for him. But it gave him a sense of completion.

Instead of the one-man cell they originally gave him, he was soon kicked into another prisoner's room. The space was equally small, but now he had to share his personal space with a thin, mousy boy. Ryuuga only noticed that he could not communicate with Rem now.

"You're Ryuuga ," said the boy. He wore clean garb instead of the usual dirty, grimy ones prisoners wore. A faint trace of arrogance dripped from his voice, and Ryuuga thought that the word 'pretty' could almost fit.

"I see."

"You're going to die." Flatly.

The boy gazed at him. He had all the arrogance any doomed man could muster, thought Ryuuga.

"So are you," replied Ryuuga. Two guards had opened the bars to his door, and Ryuuga turned his eyes from the ceiling to watch as the boy stood and walked over. They didn't grab him, but instead escorted him out.

"You don't need to know my name because I won't be scrabbling around in the dirt with you," came the final words through the door.

Ryuuga soon realized that it didn't matter that he shared the cell. His days were full of training and hard labor in iron chains, and the other boy hardly ever slept in the cell at night. Ryuuga didn't have the mind to care where the boy went at night. When he was finally allowed to return to his cell, he did not even have the energy to see where Rem went. He missed speaking to Rem, and prisoners were forbid to speak out of their cell.

**A human cannot offer or exchange for material goods.**

One night, his sleep was broken by a high-pitched scream. Loud sobbing and a desperate wail sounded through the silent prison. The door to the cell opened in a screech of rusty iron.

"He _promised_," said a voice, choked back by a wet sob, "He promised that I wouldn't have to fight."

Ryuuga tried to close his eyes and sleep through the sound. When he heard gruff laughter, accompanied the bang of his iron door, curiosity overcame him. He turned on his side to face the entrance of the cell. Saw two guards force the unwilling boy back into his cell.

The captive kicked at the taller of the two guards, and Ryuuga heard the sick thud of flesh meeting flesh. The other guard unsheathed his dagger, and pointed it directly at the boy's neck. Ryuuga could see the fight drain away from the boy. For a moment, Ryuuga wondered if he could overpower the guard and escape with the dagger. His handcuffs quickly gave him the answer.

When the door slammed shut, the boy spoke, "I know you're awake."

"I wouldn't care to be," replied Ryuuga. He opened his eyes again, but didn't sit up. His cellmate was hugging his knees, and Ryuuga noticed that his white shirt (still cleaner than his rags) had a violet stain. He faintly smelled wine.

Silent fell again, and Ryuuga closed his eyes.

"My name is Yves," came a whisper. "Yves."

The next day, Yves died. He had slit his wrist when he was dragged to his first training session.

Ryuuga had the cell to himself again.

Ryuuga found that he could nearly stop thinking of himself as a human when he operated on an autonomous, autopilot train, eat, and sleep cycle. By the time of the annual Kiran Victory Festival, Ryuuga figured he was not a human by any human definition. As such, he allowed himself to be dragged into the arena without protest, and expected to simply kill because it was the only thing he could do.

**Should a human desire what they have already exchanged away, they must pay double the original price.**

There were over a hundred captives. Ryuuga was among the mass the guards whipped into a large, barred area. Ryuuga could see sunlight and a large cage beyond the iron gates. The process was quickly explained. Keepers would pick slaves at random, and toss them into the Death Pit, as the cage was called. A random amount of slaves were picked each time, and there could only be one survivor. Weapons of various kinds would be thrown into the Pit at random. The survivor would fight in the remaining wave, until the champion, the sole survivor, was left. Any guards from the Kiran army could join at random and have the armor and weapon of their choice.

"That's not fair!" snarled a man. Ryuuga noticed that he was bald, well built and had a permanent sneer on his face. "Those picked last have a much higher chance!"

A senior guard nodded solemnly, and turned to the guards that flanked him. They whispered, and one of them laughed. Then, the man beckoned the bald captive over. Without warning, the senior guard pulled one of the man's arms and ran his sword through it. The man screamed as his dismembered left arm, still handcuffed to his right, fell to the ground with a wet smack. Ryuuga looked away.

"Guess what?" said the senior guard, "Life's not fair. You'll go first."

The other keepers laughed, as if sharing an old, private joke. They uncuffed him and pushed him towards the iron gates. Three other prisoners were grabbed. The others shrank away from the door. When the horns sounded, the four were dragged out.

Ryuuga didn't move from his spot against the damp wall. He stared at the middle, where Rem floated over the doom men. She blinked slowly and looked toward the door.

Most men here are not fighters, thought Ryuuga. He could imagine the men being sent out to the sunlit fighting pit and standing while their opponent sliced them down. The fact that he stood in the middle of a hundred men that would soon die, possibly killed by own hands, didn't scare him. He felt numb. He thanked heaven that there wasn't a single man from his own country.

Either by luck, or by Rem's invisible influence, he was among the last twenty to be sent out. Soon, only 6 were left. Ryuuga could tell that all the ones remaining were fighters. Too soon, he was picked.

"The current man standing," whispered a guard excitedly, "he has already slain 13 men. You'll be his 14th."

When the final gate opened, Ryuuga could see a powerfully built man in the Pit. He wasn't part of the slaves in the training regime, Ryuuga remembered. The man had to be at least six and a half foot, and his footfall nearly held enough force to break the concrete floor. He walked with the confidence of a man used to power and intimidation.

The man pumped a fist into the air, and the crowd's cries grew in volume. Ryuuga was slightly impressed. The Kirans weren't ones to cheer for someone that wasn't their own. The bloodbath of dozens slaughtered must have excited those monsters, thought Ryuuga .

Across the pit, he could see the Kiran Royal family. An elderly figure sat with an attractive male sprawled lazily on his right. Since the King's son was known to avoid violent fights, such as the Pit event, Ryuuga guessed that the younger man was a palace courtesan, perhaps the King's own. Kiran's acceptance of same-sex copulation was widely celebrated since it did not produce a bastard child (which, from Ryuuga had learned, was the only thing considered sinful), and many nobles took up a younger 'doll'.

His opponent gave one look at him, and jeered. The crowd followed the cries. Ryuuga watched as his opponent circled the arena, pumping his fist into the air. A quick glance at his own shadow told him that the sun was shining from the west side. He circled with the man until his back was facing the sun. It was his first advantage, and as he expected, his opponent didn't notice the position of the sun.

The fight began with a rush. Ryuuga felt a powerful rush of wind rush across his face as a he dodge an equally powerful fist. To his surprise, it wasn't followed by a kick or another fist that would have created a damaging combination. The bigger man simply punched and pulled back. And punched again.

Ryuuga knew weak fighting when he saw it. And, despite his bulk, the man was showing some of the weakest fighting Ryuuga had ever seen. How he killed thirteen others, Ryuuga would never figure out.

Easily dodging another fist, Ryuuga fell to the ground, pretending to trip over his own foot. He made sure that he fell west, so he wouldn't be facing the sun if he looked up. The noise from the crowded grew louder. As he expected, the giant punched at him. He dodged, and the fist went into the concrete ground. The concrete broke.

It didn't deter the giant. He simply punched again. This time, Ryuuga grabbed the fist as it descended. He rolled sideways and out from under the giant. He gripped the fist and reached towards the giant's back. When the giant looked up, the sunlight glared into his eyes. In the second of distraction, Ryuuga dug into the giant's spine and grabbed the weak fifth segment. It easily snapped in his palm.

It was instant death.

Deathly silence collected over the crowd before voluminous applaud and cheering sounded. The stadium rattled with the wild crowd. The crowd clearly loved a battle. They clearly loved a bloody, grueling battle. They absolutely loved a bloody, grueling battle where the underdog claimed indisputable victory.

Ryuuga looked around, a flush of pride rushing through his body. Some of the closer spectators had thrown themselves against the railing of the cave, and guards were gently pulling them back. The King's escort was staring at him, and the gaze reflected simple pride and expectation.

Before he could ponder more, the next slave was pulled out. This man was much more agile, and dodged most of Ryuuga 's advances but when Ryuuga threw a knife at him, the sharp edge proved to be much more agile. The next four were dispatched similarly. Ryuuga reminded himself that he would pray for these men, if he ever got out of this alive.

Finally, the last fight began.

Instead of the last prisoner dragged, another door to the cage opened, and Ryuuga blinked in surprise. A young woman with long black hair and trimmed armor walked in.

"General Naomi. I'm standing in for the last captive," she said, as she pulled her sword. "If you defeat me, you will be this year's champion."

Ryuuga glanced around the arena. The dead bodies were removed once the wave was over, and the weapon littered the ground. He picked up a sword that seemed to be in decent condition, and took a smaller one.

Ryuuga could use either hand as his dominant weapon hand. It was a natural talent born to him, and he honed it over the years. He switched the larger dagger to his left. He assumed that Naomi was right-handed. This would throw off her plans.

She didn't give any warning before she struck. Ryuuga barely caught her sword before it reached him. It threw a thin line through his clothe, but didn't scratch his skin. She attacked again, quicker than Ryuuga could move his own swords. Ryuuga dodged, and tripped. He picked himself him, barely avoiding another blow.

He had to put her on defensive and he had to get close, thought Ryuuga, as a lucky flip brought him out of the sword's range once again. He threw the shorter dagger toward the woman. She didn't faze – she simply deflected the dagger with the sword. But the moment was enough for Ryuuga to wound around her leg and direct a hard kick behind her knees.

She didn't fall. Instead she twisted, leap into the air and swung her sword at Ryuuga. Ryuuga was impressed by the sheer strength it took to leap in the full armor. He had only expected her to swing back. He sidestepped the sword and used his remaining sword to bring it down. It unbalanced the woman for a moment, and he reached between the gap between her helm and body armor. As he gripped the neck bone, Naomi twisted her sword backward with speed that Ryuuga couldn't fathom. There was no way he could break her neck before Naomi stabbed him.

Instead, she dropped her sword.

"You win," said the general.

"You weren't trying," hissed Ryuuga.

"Then, you owe me your life," she replied as she picked up her sword and headed out.

**A human who made a completed pact with a Shinigami will not enter Heaven or Hell.**

The champion had no other perks other the title and a dozen dead men under their name, Ryuuga learned. He was taken back to his cell, and told to wait. He saw a well dressed man enter the prison. The man looked around as if he didn't belong there. He caught Ryuuga's eyes and nodded. Then he spoke to the Keeper, and gestured to Ryuuga.

They unlocked the door and Ryuuga was lead to the main palace through an archway he didn't know exist. He was quickly ushered into a bathing room, and the Keeper roughly shoved clothing into his hands. 'Clean yourself and change' was the command.

"I probably should be really proud of myself or something," murmured Ryuuga, as he changed into more presentable attire. "Standing tall and straight."

"You already traded for your body prowess. Should you want your posture back, you'll lose double of what you gained."

"I was jesting," said Ryuuga. He turned to look Rem in the eyes. "I realize that the bargain was in my favor. The ability to fight the way I can and my life is well worth a good posture."

She didn't answer.

They exited, and a servant led them through the winding halls of the royal palace. Ryuuga admitted that he had never seen a place so well endow—it was a capitol fitting of the powerful country. Nearly every pillar was carved with intricate, exquisite designs, and the floor was polished so brightly it rivaled a mirror. Ryuuga dryly noted that the engravings were complicated to fault; it followed a common pattern, then closer inspection showed a maze of different patterns.

Ryuuga was told that he would be unrestrained or cuffed, because the Prince demanded such. Ryuuga was expected to kneel, and act with grace, for, "Your life is on the hands of the Prince, and it is due to his majesty that you are alive," said the Keeper.

They entered a grand room, an enormous bed chamber, where the elegant figure of the Kiran Prince rested on one of the gilded couches. Ryuuga recognized the young man as the one who had sat beside the King earlier. So the man was his son, not a courtesan. Ryuuga had heard many rumors of the golden Kiran prince. In one story, the prince threw a dagger straight into an enemy prince's eyes, and raced across the room to stop the dagger a second before it struck. Ryuuga admitted that the prince did have an air of magnetic sophistication. In the distance, Prince Light Yagami looked like a painting, with every detail practiced until perfected.

"You should be careful," said Rem suddenly. Her eyes trailed to a place behind the prince. "He's more than what he seems."

"I know as much," Ryuuga muttered silently. The air of silent arrogance around the man signifies something a little more than spoiled nobility.

"Come closer," a mellow, soft voice called out to Ryuuga . As he walked up, the other servants retreated, closing the door behind them.

"Your Majesty," said Ryuuga . Rem was oddly quiet, and he was not sure how else he should address the prince. For a reason he could not define, he refused to kneel before the other boy. Pride, he finally decided as he stared at the other boy's eyes. At his angle, he was staring down at the seated figure, and he knew the prince did not like it.

"Kneel," came the voice again. The brown eyes of Prince Light Yagami steeled into metallic threat for a moment, and Ryuuga felt the chill in his body.

"Kneel," Light Yagami repeated, and Ryuuga knew it would be the last time. Slowly, he slid down onto his knees, refusing to let go of the eye contact.

The heir to the world's most powerful nation visibly relaxed when Ryuuga 's knees took his weight from his foot, and Ryuuga had to look up to meet his eyes. Light Yagami's tone of voice, despite the lack of warmth, morphed into something honeyed and sweet.

"I saw you in the arena. I admired your skill very much," said Light Yagami, as he sat straighter. His head tilted lightly, causing his golden-brown hair to brush the top of his robe lightly.

"I—thank you," said Ryuuga. His hands felt useless, and he rested one on his knees as he gripped his elbow with the other. Behind him, Rem tensed, and Light Yagami's smiling lips stretched into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"I admired you very much too," the statement came with a slight sneer, a cold, quiet sarcasm. Beneath it was a layer of something dangerous. Ryuuga's whole body tense.

"I see," replied Ryuuga. He forced himself to relax, and a hand reached to stroke his hair. It was similar to how a master stroked a favorite pet, and Ryuuga hated the analogy. He tried to shift, but the soft stroke changed into a grip until he relaxed. Suddenly, he couldn't quite meet Light Yagami's eyes anymore.

Light Yagami suddenly laughed, a low tinkling chime that resonated from his throat. "I see," he repeated, glancing over Ryuuga's shoulders, as if expecting something.

For a moment, Ryuuga feared that Light Yagami could see Rem, but he quickly passed the theory as impossible.

"No matters," said Light Yagami, and Ryuuga did not know what he was referring to, "you are quite charming to look at, did you know?"

"No."

"And that brilliance at the arena. I really could not believe it from a conquered captive. I knew, since the moment you stood victorious, that I want you to serve me," continued Light Yagami. His voice was warm and sultry, but it had a certain degree of flatness that made Ryuuga nauseate.

"I thank His Majesty for his compliments," said Ryuuga. He supposed, someone or anyone that wasn't Ryuuga would have melted on the spot, warm and willing into Light Yagami 's arms. Yet, Light Yagami presence repulsed him. It was sweet, wickedly sweet, in a way Ryuuga absolutely despised. Ryuuga made it clear through his body language that he was not impressed.

"You're interesting," said Light Yagami.

Self-control became something of the far past in Ryuuga .

"And you're ostentatiously pathetic," retorted Ryuuga , "You cannot expect me to swoon with wanton abandon like a _puer delicatus_ who grew up on refined, white milk_."_

At that time, the act dropped from Light Yagami. It shattered like glass on stone, revealing an apathetic face, bored and arroant. "No, I suppose that would be too boring. I like you better this way."

Ryuuga liked the prince better when the penetrable sweet voice wasn't obscuring the prince's arrogant sharpness. It was much less of an insult to Ryuuga's intelligence. Ryuuga voiced the thought without caution.

"I suppose, with your strategies, you would think yourself to possess considerable intelligence," said Kiran's crowned prince. Ryuuga bit back the urge to punch the smug face.

"And I suppose, with your lucky birth, you were taught to overestimate your own worth," replied Ryuuga, his voice lowered into a monotone. "You clearly take pleasure over the tiniest, most guaranteed victories. People like to lose to the royal family, so it would be by default that your talents are heavily overestimated."

"I am not overestimating the control I have over your life and death," murmured prince. His fingers tightened into a painful grip on Ryuuga's hair, yanking the strands. "Nor should you underestimate it."

His words couldn't break the pride that lined the body of Ryuuga. Suddenly, it didn't matter that the prideful, tasteless creature in front of him was the most powerful prince in the land, that he was the crowned prince of Kiran. Ryuuga gripped the wrist of the hand buried in his hair, and tightened his grip, watching as Light Yagami 's expression change into something of disgust and scorn.

"You're the type who'd moan sweetly and acquiesce softly when you're dominated; when you're unable to play in the talentless, drab way you're used to, are you not?" said Ryuuga, as he dragged the lithe wrist out of his hair, shaking his head in the process.

Light Yagami suddenly reversed the grip, catching Ryuuga's wrist, pulling him toward himself. Then the direction changed, and Light Yagami pushed away roughly, causing Ryuuga to sprawl ungracefully on the ground. Light Yagami 's teacup, which had been next to him, fell in the process. The noise caused the door to open, and four guards rushed in. Light Yagami didn't look ruffled in the slightest.

"I don't imagine a dead man would find out," Light Yagami's silky, honeyed voice was neither pleasant nor sympathized. He turned to the guards, "there is no need to consult or inform my father of this matter. Just follow my commands."

"Your Highness' command?"

"I want this derelict beheaded and his body burned by tomorrow morning."

**A human who made a completed pact with a Shinigami will not enter Heaven or Hell.**

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><p>That was totally a narrative hook, not a cliff-hanger.<p>

L and Light, with Shinigami-induced-Faustian Pacts, gladiator-like fights, and royalty.

The chapter has been revised, as of September 8th, 2012.


End file.
